


Airport Struggles

by BuzzCat



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, set sometime in season five (?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuzzCat/pseuds/BuzzCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flight delays mean Lana is just tired.<br/>Really short piece, no plot, basically just don't want it sitting around on my computer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airport Struggles

“Four HOURS?” Lana shouted, staring at the flight attendant. To his credit, the man did not back down or flinch, but instead kept eye contact with her,  
“Yes, ma’am. If you wish to find a hotel room while you wait, there is a hotel on the upper floors. I can call them and set up a room for you, if you’d like.”  
“No, that’s fine,” Lana said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Archer pushed her to the side to get closer to the desk, saying,  
“No, not fine. Yeah, call them up and tell them to—“  
“Archer, it’s fine,” Lana said through gritted teeth. If they went over budget, Malory would absolutely kill them and Lana did not have the patience for those kind of tirades that she used to before her feet started swelling up and the smell of curry making her nauseous. God, being pregnant sucked. Occasionally. Sometimes. Alright, half of her waking time she was vaguely annoyed, but she blamed more the concept of the human body than the tiny life inside her. Archer looked like he was about to argue about the hotel room, but Lana dragged him away from the stand. He looked at her,  
“What, Lana? Are you honestly going to sit in these shitty chairs for the next seven hours—because you know how delays always get pushed back—and bitch about your back or your feet or throw up into the nearest bag?”  
“Yes, we are. If your mother gives me one more lecture about fiscal responsibility and how it is evidence of my terrible mothering skills, I swear to God, I. Will. Lose it.”  
“Alright, yeesh. God, I almost liked you better when you were period bitchy,” Archer said. Before Lana could give him the tongue-lashing he deserved, he stepped back, “I’m getting drunk…er. Come get me when we’re boarding,” he said, walking away. Lana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. God, she wanted a nap. Of course, she hadn’t lived twelve years as a spy by sleeping on the job, so consciousness and pregnancy books it was. As she flipped the next page on her ipad, Lana took a second to deeply resent that she couldn’t have caffeine. She also deeply resented her lack of alcohol as Archer spent the entire flight (six hours later) hitting on anything with two legs and breasts.


End file.
